There’s an ache in revisiting a place that once held your very identity. New York City, that concrete jungle once pulsating with the rhythm of my being, now feels like a stranger simply wearing familiar landmarks. Buildings have overtaken where the parks used to be, where kids used to play. The city’s buzz replaced by a constant hum of aggression. Faces marred by stress rush by, racing to the next, and the next, and the next.
This city used to be my anchor, the pull that drew me back after every venture. Something has shifted within me. This ground feels less like home and more like a crossroads. I thought the city would greet me with familiarity, but it greeted me with hostility instead. Perhaps it’s the city’s transformation, shedding its skin like a snake, leaving behind memories in the discarded scales. Or maybe it’s me, emerging from the transformation of challenges, my wings a kaleidescope of scars and resilience.
I left behind relationships that were once constellations guiding my navigation, but eventually choked my growth. Each parting left a jagged tear in my heart, yet necessary for my well-being. Leaving meant facing the raw ache of severed connections, but also embracing the freedom to write the next chapter in my story.
My health, struggled like a broken-winged bird, fluttering on the edge of collapse, yet now rising from the ashes. The struggles with PTSD, fibromyalgia, and a heart problem had me at the crux of a mountain I never thought I’d see a way past, but I’m still climbing. Every step I take is a testament to my fight. Every sunrise I get to see is a victory dance. I’ve learned to prioritize my well-being, nurturing it as a necessity instead of letting it wither in the shadows of neglect like I used to.
For me, New York isn’t just the very canvas of change and loss. It’s also the reflection of unexpected possibilities. In the quiet corners of my new space in this world, I’ve discovered a career that lets me be a balm to others’ wounds, a testament to my own healing journey. Friendships have blossomed, resulting in shared laughter and memories. My feet now walk mountain trails, hiking mountains I never imagined I could reach. I’ve traded blazing billboards for sunrises and sunsets that burst like painted masterpieces, their colors give way to the constellational fireworks coming to life each night.
New York City, with its bittersweet mix of nostalgia and diversity, feels like an overly cramped space now in a life I left behind long ago. It’s a mirror reflecting not just the city’s evolution, but my own. It’s a reminder that home isn’t a place frozen in time, but instead what we carry within, constantly transforming with our experiences. I may no longer recognize the skyline, but the familiar connections still flicker for me. Perhaps, in this shifting space, I’m not searching for the New York I left behind, but for the new version of myself. The one who can embrace change and move forward with a new sense of belonging within its changing spaces.
So, New York City, I say goodbye not with regret, but with gratitude. Thank you for the memories, the lessons, and the bittersweet reminder that change, even when unwelcome, can pave the path to a future brimming with unexpected beauty and newfound belonging. As I head towards the next horizon, I carry a piece of you, in the resilience I developed within your embrace. And who knows, maybe someday, when my own transformation is complete, this place will feel like home once more.
Until then, I miss the loved ones I’m far away from, and I rest in the decision to say permanent goodbyes to others. I look forward to the next adventure in my life and I’ll do my best to live every day to the best I can. I was given the opportunity to rise from the ashes and I won’t waste it.
